Sharp Dressed Man
by ShirleyAnn66
Summary: Just another ordinary day in Jericho. Heather/Beck
1. Chapter 1

**Written for the storylottery community on LiveJournal.**

**Genre**: Fluffy Fluff  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Prompt**: #12 : a sunset  
**Summary**: Just an ordinary day - or as ordinary as it ever gets in Jericho.  
**Spoilers**: Nothing specific, but anything in both seasons is fair game.

**Disclaimer**: Jericho and everything associated with it is owned by CBS and whoever else owns it - not me (sadly). I have no claims or affiliations with any of the powers that be for this universe. This is strictly for fun, not profit, and the characters shall be returned relatively safely and mostly unharmed.

A/N: Yeah, you have to really squint to see the prompt... :(

* * *

It was an ordinary day – or as ordinary as it ever got in Jericho. It was evening, with sunset not far away on this early fall day, two years after the Attacks. The Second Civil War had been over for two months, and everyone – including Jericho – was beginning to rebuild. The new government and the new peace were still fragile, though, and resources were scarce. Most of the newly reunited country was still on their own, and doing their best to survive.

In many ways, Jericho was back where it had been shortly after the Attacks – except that Beck and his troops had returned to town just before the end of the War to protect Jericho from the last great ASA offensive, and had afterwards volunteered to stay and help them rebuild. Jericho was the home of two of the greatest heroes of the War after all.

In many ways, it felt like he had never left.

The feeling of déja vu was strong as Beck listened to Heather reporting on the state of Jericho's supplies. She was no longer his liaison; instead, she was now Town Manager, but their working relationship had changed only slightly in spite of her new title and current boss. She was still focused on the safety and security of Jericho – and in ensuring that Beck always faced the truth and did the right thing.

The current conversation in Beck's office saw them disagreeing over how to ensure the surplus grain that was owed to them by a neighbouring town was actually delivered to them. After much debate, Heather had finally gotten Beck to agree that _somebody_ needed to go and negotiate with her equivalent.

Now that she had won her first point, she turned her attention to her real goal. "A deal is a deal, after all," Heather said persuasively, "but there's no need to literally send in the Army just yet. I think we'd be most successful if I went in my capacity as Town Manager."

Beck cocked his head, leaned back in his desk chair and looked at her with his all-seeing eyes. "If I recall correctly," he said thoughtfully, "the last time you went off on your own, you tried to blow up a factory. Who knows what trouble you'll get into this time?"

Heather stared at him, taken aback. Was he actually..._teasing_ her? He tried to maintain his poker face, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes were warm chocolate, causing a small shiver to rush down her spine.

She couldn't help it; she smiled at him, laughing a little. "If I promise not to blow anything up, can I go?"

Beck shrugged. "Sure."

Heather's face lit up.

"But not alone," Beck added, his tone final, even as he felt a small spurt of satisfaction that he could bring that look of happiness to her pretty face. "I'll send four of my men with you – in civvies," he raised a calming hand as she opened her mouth to protest. "You'll meet whoever you want – _outside_ town limits, in neutral territory. Under no circumstances do you or anybody else go into that town. Understood?"

The smile was gone; now Heather scowled at him, then nodded grudgingly. "Fine," she sighed. "Understood." She sounded so much like a petulant child that Beck had to bite back a grin. All that was missing was the pout, he thought, and he suppressed the urge to come out from behind the desk and give her a reassuring hug.

He caught a glimpse out of movement out of the corner of his eye. "And for God's sake," he added, raising his voice slightly, "_don't _take Jake with you!"

"Don't take me where?" Jake asked, startled, as he walked into Beck's office, looking from one to the other.

"Never mind," Heather huffed, and with a warning glare and shake of her head, left the two men alone.

"What was that about?" Jake asked, wide-eyed, as he watched her go.

Beck quickly explained. "And of course I want you to go with her," Beck added. "You'll manage to get her out of any trouble she might encounter. Besides, you're one of the great heroes of the Second Civil War – that should give her more than enough clout if the negotiations start to go south. Just...try not to start any _more_ wars, okay?"

Jake stared at him, his eyes assessing. "So why don't _you_ go with her?" Jake asked skeptically.

Beck's gaze slid away from Jake's and he pointedly picked up a sheet of paper on his desk. "I'm needed here," he replied calmly.

"Seriously? You can't be spared for one day?"

Beck muttered something, his attention focused on the paper in his hand, and Jake leaned closer. "What was that?"

Beck sighed, tossed the paper back onto his desk, sat back, and squarely met Jake's eyes.

"I don't have any civilian clothes," Beck repeated clearly. "Most of my troops are in the same boat, so it would take time to find somebody who can lend me clothes. It sounds stupid, I know, but – I have nothing to wear."

Jake stared at him for a second – and couldn't help it. He started to laugh.

Beck gave a sheepish shrug and then chuckled. "We've been giving aid and comfort for a long time, you know. And then that last battle just before the War ended took out my command tent – including all of my personal belongings except what I had on me." He gave Jake a rueful grin. "Look, there's always another priority, right? I mean - " Beck gestured at Jake's dirty jacket and jeans, "when was the last time _you_ did laundry?"

Jake looked down at himself with a grin. "Actually, Emily or Mom does my laundry – but...I see your point. Okay – I'll go with them. But _you_ -" Jake said, shaking a finger at him, "_you_ need to get a change of clothes!"

"Yeah, yeah," Beck muttered. "Now what did you want to see me about?"

With that, they went back to business.

The sun was setting by the time Beck left the sheriff's office to head to the small house he had been using since the end of the War and the loss of his command tent. He turned at the sound of his name to see Heather jogging to catch up to him.

"Hi," he greeted, a slight question in his voice.

"Jake told me you're looking for clothes," Heather said with an amused, bright-eyed grin.

"Jake has a big mouth," Beck replied with a sigh.

"Well, that explains why you never go out in the evenings," Heather responded.

"That, and I'm usually working until Bailey's closes, or asleep before it opens" Beck said drily.

"Well, regardless – we need to do something about this. And for the rest of your troops, too – but you first. Come on," she said, grabbing his arm and tugging him after her.

"Where are we going?" Beck asked, a note of trepidation in his voice.

"We have a stock of second-hand clothes in the bomb shelter at the med-centre. We should be able to find something to fit you. And tomorrow," she added, as she glanced at the sun setting in the west, "we'll let your troops know about it, and we'll hopefully get most of them outfitted, too."

Beck sighed, but knew better than to protest. Besides, his troops could use civilian clothes, too, and this was the first he'd heard of the stash at the med-centre. It was research, he told himself, although deep down he knew it was more that he had a tough time saying no to the slender brunette in front of him. Especially when she was in this bouncy, earnest, problem-solving mode.

Even though he was utterly albeit reluctantly charmed by Heather's enthusiastic determination to solve his clothing problem, Beck silently vowed to send Jake on the next dirty job that came across his desk. It would serve Jake right to be on garbage duty for a couple of weeks. Maybe even three. Beck mentally shook visions of sweet revenge from his mind and focused his attention back on the woman beside him. If nothing else, he thought, he'd get to spend some more time with her when they weren't distracted with trying to save the world -

Maybe he'd only put Jake on garbage duty for _one_ week...


	2. Chapter 2

**Genre**: Fluffy Fluff  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Prompt**: #22 : a second  
**Summary**: Just an ordinary day - or as ordinary as it ever gets in Jericho.  
**Spoilers**: Nothing specific, but anything in both seasons is fair game.

**Disclaimer**: Jericho and everything associated with it is owned by CBS and whoever else owns it - not me (sadly). I have no claims or affiliations with any of the powers that be for this universe. This is strictly for fun, not profit, and the characters shall be returned relatively safely and mostly unharmed.

* * *

The bomb shelter of the med-centre was crammed full with boxes, and Heather gave him a delighted grin that melted his heart as she turned on the lights and headed down the stairs.

"We never did manage to fix the generator," Heather explained, "so we converted it into a storage area. During the War, we used it to store extra medical supplies, weapons and ammunition." She shrugged at his raised eyebrow. "This is a pretty central location; we could arm anybody in any corner of Jericho within ten minutes. Anyway," she said, opening up the first box, "we still use it for extra medical supplies, but it's also where we store the surplus clothes."

"Why here?" Beck asked idly, watching her enthusiastically rooting through the clothes in front of her.

"Well, there's plenty of room, and since all refugees are processed through the med-centre, we have a ready supply of clothes for them. Also, if we run out of bandages or dressings, they can come down here and find some clothes to use for those purposes."

She held up a pair of jeans and eyed him critically. "Hmmm...too small," she muttered. Even though Beck had told her his size, she was finding that a lot of the clothes didn't have labels and she was reduced to guessing whether the clothes would fit or not.

She shoved several shirts and a couple pairs of pants into his arms, and motioned him towards the screen that served as a makeshift changing room. Heather watched him walk towards the screen with an amused, fond smile, and allowed herself a moment to simply enjoy..._being_ with him.

Eighteen months after Beck first made her his liaison, two months after his return to Jericho just in time for the final battle of the War, right on Jericho's doorstep, she valued these moments of normalcy, of easy rapport and, yes, of sweet friendship. She valued them all the more because, in the darkest moments, when everything that Beck had done to Jake became known, after Beck had left for Texas, and as the War came closer and closer to them, she hadn't dared to hope they would all be together in Jericho, that Beck would come back in one piece and be accepted by the town. They had all gone through fire to get to this point, and had made it through to the other side.

Heather had suspected her feelings for Beck ran deeper than she was willing to admit when he received confirmation just before his departure that his wife and child were dead. The desire to comfort him and ease his pain had startled her with its intensity. She _knew_ what she felt was far, far more than mere friendship the day he and his troops departed from Jericho, and she was left watching them go until she couldn't even see the dust.

She had had many long frightening months to get used to her feelings, and when he returned, she had learned to hide them. She wasn't sure if he was ready to move on from his losses, but Heather believed it was only a matter of time. Moments like the one earlier today, when he was teasing her and his eyes were warm and dark and seemed to promise things his mouth had never said, she knew – _knew_ – that when he was ready, he was going to move on with her.

Most of the time, though, she had no idea what he thought of her or how he felt about her, other than as a good friend, and a useful resource to help him do his job.

She shook her head, and went back to the task as hand. She continued to root through boxes of clothes, bringing things she thought would fit him to where he stood behind the screen, and he dutifully tried on everything she shoved his way.

"Where did all these come from?" Beck asked as he pulled on yet another shirt.

"When we finally accepted the fact that some people were never coming back," Heather explained, her eyes focused on the box she was digging through, "we went into their houses to salvage – scavenge – whatever we could. You were already gone – fighting the War -" She stopped abruptly, pausing for so long that Beck peeked out from behind the screen. She was staring sightlessly at the pile of clothes, her blue eyes filled with tears.

"I'm sorry," he said gently. "I know it was rough here – really rough. The ASA targeted this part of the country pretty aggressively. I'm sorry I wasn't here to help."

Heather resolutely shook her head and glanced over at him. "It's okay," she said, her voice a little soggy. "I was just remembering what it was like...not knowing where you were, or if you were okay, or if -" she stopped abruptly, staring at the ground.

"If I was dead?" he asked.

"Or if you wanted to come back," she whispered.

"Of course I wanted to come back," he replied softly. "I'd left a friend behind."

Beck was rewarded with a shy smile, a blush and a sweetly bashful glance that made the world stand still for a second.

"Good," was all she said though, before she turned away to dig through more boxes and Beck ducked back behind the screen to keep trying on clothes.

"Uh, Heather," he finally asked, "just how many clothes do you think I need?"

"Well," she replied distractedly, "at least three outfits, possibly four."

"_What_?" Beck yelped, and came out from behind the screen in the jeans he'd just put on - the first pair that actually fit – and pulling a t-shirt over his head. "How do you figure _that_?"

"Well -" Heather stalled at the sight of him.

He stood, hands on his hips, glaring at her challengingly. Out of uniform, he was slimmer than she had thought, and the t-shirt emphasized the muscles in his arms and chest. For a second all she could do was stare at him.

"Well, what?" he demanded.

Heather swallowed and focused with an effort. "Well...I figure you need two casual outfits, one workout outfit, and one dressier outfit for..." she trailed off, her eyes wide, a look of consternation on her face.

"_For_?" Beck questioned, curious as to why she was looking at him like that.

Heather looked away and muttered something.

"Sorry?" he asked.

Heather sighed. "A dressier outfit for more formal occasions – like a date."

"Hah!" Beck scoffed, "and _who_, exactly, would I be dating?"

The minute he said it, he knew he'd stepped in it.

"Well, you never know," Heather replied defensively, blushing furiously while thrusting another armful of clothes at him, "and only _women_ should claim they have nothing to wear when they're going on a date."

Beck blinked at her. "Heather -"

She pointed to the screen. "Go. Try on clothes, and then we're going to pick out at least four outfits – and because of your attitude, you're picking out _two_ dressier outfits!"

"Heather -" Beck tried again, causing her to gently turn him around and push him towards the screen.

"Go," she said softly, her voice sad.

"Okay," Beck said, turning back to her and dropping the clothes on top of a pile of boxes, "enough of this." He grabbed her shoulders and stared intently at her. "I'm sorry."

Heather bravely met his gaze, fully aware that her hurt and vulnerability were written all over her face. "Nothing to be sorry about," she said, and there really wasn't. It wasn't his fault she felt more for him than he felt for her. It just happened to be the story of her life. Unfortunately.

"Sure there is," Beck objected softly and tugged her closer. Startled, she pressed her hands against his chest, feeling the heat of him through the thin cotton of the t-shirt. She stared at him, her lips softly parted, her eyes wide and a little wary.

Beck hesitated a second, then leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

The kiss was a little shy and very sweet, a little chaste, but with the promise of passion right beneath the surface. After a second of surprise, Heather opened her mouth to him with a soft sigh and stroked her hands around his chest and up his back as she pressed closer.

Their tongues met and sensuously tangled with each other as Beck pulled her more fully against him, revelling in the feel of her soft breasts pressed against his chest, in her taste on his tongue, and in the scent of her in his nostrils.

Their mouths parted and came back together more deeply, and their surroundings receded to a blur. It was only when the need for oxygen became imperative that they finally parted, breathing hard, their eyes wide and awed.

"Maybe..." Beck suggested softly after he caught his breath, his voice husky, "maybe I'm going to need _three_ dressier outfits?"

Heather gave him a radiant smile. "Maybe," she agreed with a chuckle, and hugged him, her cheek pressed against his chest while Beck buried his face into the crook of her neck and held her tight.

Maybe he wouldn't put Jake on garbage duty after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Genre**: Fluffy Fluff  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Prompt**: #03 : a flash of lightning  
**Summary**: Just an ordinary day - or as ordinary as it ever gets in Jericho.  
**Spoilers**: Nothing specific, but anything in both seasons is fair game.

**Disclaimer**: Jericho and everything associated with it is owned by CBS and whoever else owns it - not me (sadly). I have no claims or affiliations with any of the powers that be for this universe. This is strictly for fun, not profit, and the characters shall be returned relatively safely and mostly unharmed.

* * *

In the end, after much debate punctuated with blatant sexual manipulations and a couple of hot makeout sessions, they compromised. Beck walked out with a pair of sweats, a pair of jeans, two t-shirts, a sweatshirt and a white button-down shirt. He was also the proud owner of a pair of sneakers. He managed to convince Heather to give up on the dressy outfits once he reminded her they lived in Jericho – jeans and a button-down shirt _were_ dressy. That fact that he was nibbling on her ear as he was making his case may – or may not – have swayed her to his point of view. As they left the bomb shelter, they both agreed it was the most fun they'd ever had disagreeing with each other.

The night was unusually balmy for the time of year, and the moon was full and shining as they left the med-centre, weighted down by Beck's finds. With a rather shy sideways glance, Beck reached out and snagged Heather's hand. She started then gave him a sweet smile and tangled her fingers with his.

By the time they parted company at her house, they'd made arrangements for Beck to return in an hour and they'd go to Bailey's for their first official date.

When Beck arrived at Heather's house, it was fully dark, and the sky had clouded over, with lightning flickering on the horizon. He paused for a moment, suddenly feeling as nervous as a teenage boy. His heart was pounding and his palms were sweating, and he had to smile ruefully at himself. He hadn't dated anyone for a very long time, and he wasn't sure he remembered how to do it, and while their time in the bomb shelter already told him she was attracted to him, this first date was going to take their relationship to a totally different, completely public, level.

He took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. The door opened almost immediately, and he thought she had probably been watching for him. The realization made him smile even as the sight of her caused him to catch his breath.

She was wearing a pretty summer dress that sweetly hugged her figure and ended just above her knees, the colour of which seemed to give her tanned face an extra glow. She had on a pair of heeled sandals which made her almost the same height as he was, and his first thought was that they'd be able to kiss for hours while she was wearing those without his neck or back getting sore. Her legs were long, slim and incredibly shapely, and with a shock of surprise, he realized this was the first time he'd ever _seen_ her legs. He swallowed, tracing the graceful line of her legs and pretty feet in her delicate sandals, and he remembered that the thing he liked _best_ about dresses was the ease of access they gave to what lay beneath.

With an effort, Beck tore his gaze from Heather's legs and met her eyes, to see her looking both nervous and amused.

"You look great," he said, his voice husky.

"So do you," she replied, and for a moment she hesitated. His dark, burning eyes made her knees go weak, and all she wanted to do was pull him inside the house and not let him see the light of day for about a week. Maybe two. The white dress shirt was a stark contrast to his black hair and brown skin, and the combination knocked her back for a moment. She realized she was happy to see him in civilian clothes, but what she _really_ wanted to do was to see him out of them.

She was in a bit of a dilemma, though, While she wanted to imitate the Old Widow Hen in Bugs Bunny, and throw Beck into her house and lock the door, she was also..._proud_ of him, and wanted to show him off. Like a bracelet or something, she thought giddily, and fought to keep from giggling. Man, she was nervous, which was odd, considering the fact that while they were kissing in the bomb shelter, she hadn't been nervous at all.

"Ready to go?" he finally asked, and she blinked back to reality.

As much as she wanted to take him to bed _right now_, she also wanted a little bit of courtship, a little bit of wooing, a little bit of, well, what would have happened Before. Back when things were normal and ordinary.

Besides, if the look in his eyes was any indication, she was going to get her wish sooner rather than later. She nodded her head, and stepped out to join him on the porch.

He held her hand again on the walk to Bailey's and she couldn't help grinning at him and blushing like a schoolgirl as they walked. They chatted about inconsequentials, like what they wanted to eat, and what they thought people's reactions would be to see Beck in something other than his Army uniform and what Heather thought it would take to get Jake into that bomb shelter to get his own change of clothes.

As they approached Bailey's, Heather could feel the electricity in the air, dancing across her bare shoulders, prickling on her skin. For a moment she couldn't tell if the feeling was caused by the man beside her, or by the lightning flashing through the air followed by the sound of distant thunder.

"There's a storm coming," Beck noted thoughtfully glancing up at the sky. The full moon that had been in evidence just two hours before was hidden now.

Heather shook her head. "Hopefully it will pass Jericho by – well, not the rain, but any major winds or damages."

Beck nodded, then reached out and held the door for Heather to precede him into the bar. They were immediately enveloped in heat and noise as they entered, and Beck good-naturedly took the teasing that came his way when people got a good look at him.

It was nothing, though, compared to the catcalls and wolf whistles when the crowd in Bailey's realized he and Heather were holding hands – and were obviously on a date. With a shared rueful look and a roll of the eyes, Beck and Heather cheerfully joined their circle of friends at the bar, and happily accepted the free drinks offered immediately by Stanley and Mimi in celebration.


	4. Chapter 4

**Genre**: Fluffy Fluff  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Prompt**: #27: fire  
**Summary**: Just an ordinary day - or as ordinary as it ever gets in Jericho.  
**Spoilers**: Nothing specific, but anything in both seasons is fair game.

**Disclaimer**: Jericho and everything associated with it is owned by CBS and whoever else owns it - not me (sadly). I have no claims or affiliations with any of the powers that be for this universe. This is strictly for fun, not profit, and the characters shall be returned relatively safely and mostly unharmed.

* * *

Beck and Heather had been in Bailey's for about two hours when the storm they had seen on the horizon when they arrived rolled in with a vengeance. The wind was shaking the building and the thunder was deafening and almost non-stop. Bailey's was packed and jumping, the jukebox louder than normal to be heard above the storm, and Beck and Heather were standing at the bar, pressed close together to accommodate the crush of people and in order to be heard over the noise. Jake and Emily were in a similar position close to them; Stanley and Mimi left shortly after Beck and Heather had arrived. It was harvest time, and Stanley would be in the fields at first light.

Beck noticed the smell of smoke first, closely followed by Heather and Jake. With a quick glance at the crowded dance floor and the press of bodies around the bar and the tables, the three of them surreptitously looked around, searching for the source. When they couldn't find one, Beck and Jake headed towards the back of the bar, with Heather close behind.

They discovered the fire almost immediately when Beck reached out to touch the closed door of the storage room and sharply pulled his hand back with a hiss of pain. Away from the babble of voices and music, they could hear the fire crackling in the walls and, they realized with a swift glance upwards, in the ceiling.

"How many exits are there?" Beck asked Jake and Heather.

"Two, now. The third exit was through there," Jake nodded further down the corridor they were in, past the hot door. They were all silent as they saw the tendrils of smoke beginning to seep out from the storage room.

"What's in there?" Heather asked, a note of trepidation in her voice. They had stockpiled weapons and ammunition throughout Jericho, and Bailey's had been one such storehouse. This particular storage room had been renovated to create hidden storage compartments for just that purpose.

"Just foodstuffs," Jake reassured her. "I think."

Beck shook his head. "We don't have a lot of time." He glanced up at the ceiling where they could hear the fire getting louder. "We have to get everybody out of here without causing a panic."

"They're pretty inured to panic by now," Jake replied, even as they to headed back to the bar. "I don't think that's going to be the problem."

"What will?" Heather asked as they came back to the main part of the bar.

"Getting their attention," Jake yelled in reply as they hit the wall of noise.

With eye contact and hand gestures, they split up. Jake headed towards the bar where Mary and Eric were filling drink and food orders, and Heather watched as he took them aside and gave them the news, and then he and Eric headed out the front door. Beck moved to the front of the bar and was starting to spread the word as people gave him horrified looks and began to gather up their belongings and head towards the front door. Heather shook her head then headed towards the dance floor and the back part of the bar to spread the news and herd people towards the back exit.

Mary unplugged the jukebox and amidst the catcalls and the boos, made the announcement that the bar was on fire and that everyone needed to evacuate the building. The smoke was already thicker, soot and ash was beginning to fill the air, and everyone could hear the fire in the ceiling above them once the jukebox was turned off. Jake had been right, though – there was no panic. Two years of hardship and war had made the people of Jericho far more resilient than they had ever been before.

Beck quickly lost sight of Heather in the milling crowd and the thickening smoke and ash. The sudden onslaught of water as the volunteer fire brigade arrived and began to fight the fire didn't help, either. A detached part of him was amazed at how quickly the bar had filled with acrid, blinding smoke once they actually noticed the fire, and he was impressed by the speed with which the volunteer fire brigade had responded to the alarm, even as he shivered as the water drenched him. Another part of him was busy assessing how many people were still there, how long it would take to get them out and how much time they had before the bar was completely ablaze.

The part of him that wasn't focused on the crisis, though, was yelling at him to go – find Heather – get her the hell out of this building before anything happened to her. It was the part of him that didn't care about saving the world – he only wanted to save one woman. He had to keep telling himself that Heather was a capable young woman, doing what needed to be done in a crisis, and he had to have faith that she was okay, and helping the others – like she always did. As the evacuation progressed, though, and he still hadn't caught sight of her, his worry and concern for Heather grew until, with an oath, Beck yelled at the last dozen people "Keep going, but be careful!" and he headed towards the back of the bar, searching for the one face he suddenly felt a desperate need to find.

Heather, meanwhile, was busy helping people grab their belongings and herding them towards the back door. She was fighting memories of the library fire, when she'd been hoping for a miracle – or a hero - to save her. If she was honest with herself, she'd hoped that Jake would ride to her rescue – again. Instead, she got the other Green brother and – seriously – she was just as happy to see Eric as she would have been to see Jake.

Beck, on the other hand, a distant part of her thought, obviously expected her to be the rescuer and not the rescued. On the one hand, she appreciated that very much. On the other hand, the part of her gibbering in terror in the corner of her mind wished he didn't have such high expectations of her.

Beck seemed to suddenly loom out of the chaos of smoke and soot, ash and water, startling her as he grabbed her shoulders. "Are you all right?" he yelled above the noise of the flames and the shouts of the men outside and the sound of water pouring onto the burning building.

"Yes!" she yelled back.

"Good!" He stared at her intently, then quickly glanced around the area. "Everybody's out?"

She nodded frantically, her heart pounding with adrenaline and fear. Beck grabbed her hand and tugged her towards the door.

If this were a movie, Heather thought as she followed him, her hand tucked securely in his, a burning timber would fall, trapping them. Instead, they quickly reached the outside without further incident.

They were soaked from the fire hoses, coughing from the smoke. Their hair and clothes were black with soot and ash, and they shivered in the cold wind that was all that was left of the earlier storm.

Beck kept a firm grip on her hand as he pulled her to the front of the building, and past the controlled chaos of the firefighters and they headed towards Eric, directing activities near the fire trucks.

"Anything we can do?" Beck shouted above the noise.

"No," Eric replied, shaking his head. "We've got it under control." He gave them both a once over. "You two should head to the med-centre; get checked out."

Heather automatically shook her head. "I'm fine," she assured him.

"You should be checked out for smoke inhalation," Eric insisted. "But they'll be overwhelmed. Bailey's was packed tonight," he added ruefully as he watched Mary's place of business burn brightly.

Beck nodded and pulled Heather away. "Come on," he said, "let's let the pros handle this."

Heather hesitated, and then she nodded. "But not the med-centre," she said, catching sight of Mary, Jake and Emily on the other side of the street, Mary crying silently. Now it was Heather's turn to tug Beck behind her as they headed across the street towards their friends.


	5. Chapter 5

**Genre**: Fluffy Fluff  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Prompt**: #18 : the full moon  
**Summary**: Just an ordinary day - or as ordinary as it ever gets in Jericho.  
**Spoilers**: Nothing specific, but anything in both seasons is fair game.

**Disclaimer**: Jericho and everything associated with it is owned by CBS and whoever else owns it - not me (sadly). I have no claims or affiliations with any of the powers that be for this universe. This is strictly for fun, not profit, and the characters shall be returned relatively safely and mostly unharmed.

* * *

"Mary, are you all right?" Heather asked, reaching out to her friend.

"Physically, yeah," Mary sniffed. Heather turned and looked behind her. The fire was already being brought under control. "I think they'll save the structure," Heather said, her voice assessing. "You'll be able to rebuild."

"_How_?" Mary wailed. "Rebuilding a bar is gonna be pretty low on the scale of priorities!"

"True," Beck agreed, "but there are empty buildings. You can set up temporary shop somewhere else, until we can rebuild it for you. Besides," he slanted a look at Jake out of the corner of his eye, "you have some...creative thinkers in your corner. You may be rebuilt faster than you think."

Mary gave a watery chuckle, then sighed. "It won't be the same," she said mournfully, shaking her head.

"What is?" Beck asked quietly. For a moment they remembered all that had been lost over the last two years, and they mourned for more than just the loss of the bar.

The five of them stood and watched the fire as it was brought under control. Bystanders and neighbours had quickly come forward to help the bar patrons get to the med-centre or to get home, and someone had gotten blankets for Mary and the others. Heather shivered slightly as her clothes slowly dried under her blanket, her hair matted with ash, her face streaked with soot. Beck noticed her shiver, and gently pulled her in front of him, enfolded her with him under his own blanket wrapping his arms snugly around her . He was as damp and dirty and cold as she was, but after a moment, his heat began to seep into her bones and he was a warm, solid comfort against her cold back.

They stood like that until the fire was extinguished, making comments to the others on occasion. At one point Jake confirmed that, as far as anyone could tell, everyone had gotten out of the bar without injury although there were several cases of mild smoke inhalation. They all stayed huddled around Mary, offering her what comfort they could as she watched her livelihood and her home burn before her eyes. On occasion they speculated as to the cause, and finally assumed it was a lightning strike. They would know more in the morning.

The group finally parted company when the firefighters confirmed the fire was completely extinguished and Eric returned to take Mary back to Jake and Emily's for the night. Nobody would be able to get inside to assess the damage and what could be salvaged until morning.

After the Green family was out of sight, Beck turned Heather in the direction of her house and they headed off slowly, his arm and blanket still wrapped around her.

They walked in exhausted silence for several minutes. The clouds had gone again, the storm a thing of the past. The streets were eerily silent after the excitement of the evening, bathed in the silver glow of the full moon hanging low in the sky

"Well," Beck said slowly, breaking their companionable silence, "this isn't _quite_ how I expected our first date to go."

Heather chuckled. "Never let it be said you don't know how to show a girl a good time."

Beck laughed. "All things considered, I much preferred the bomb shelter."

Heather gave him a wide grin that was radiant even through the soot and grime on her face. She leaned towards him conspiratorially. "Me, too."

"Will we be able to rebuild it?" Heather asked after a moment as they continued to walk, her voice a little sad and wistful.

Beck sighed. "We'll try. But Mary's right. Rebuilding the bar isn't high on the list of priorities; it can't be. But we can find another place for her to run her business."

"Oh!" Heather cried sharply, stopping in her tracks. Beck gave her a startled look as he came to a halt beside her.

"What?" he demanded, looking around for whatever may have startled her.

"We probably lost the jukebox," she sighed sadly.

Beck gave her a glimmer of a smile. "Weren't you sick of the selection by now?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah – but it was the only source of music, really, that we had. Well, besides the Friday night bar band."

"I hear they're getting better."

Heather grinned. "So, you're telling me that the real reason you've stayed out of Bailey's on Friday nights is because you'd heard about that band?"

"From several blocks away, actually," Beck replied drily.

Heather stared at him, then threw back her head and laughed. She threw her arms around him and hugged him as she laughed. With a soundless sigh, Beck held her as tight as he could, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his cheek pressed against her damp, dirty hair. He closed his eyes and revelled in the sound and the feel of her laughing against him. For just a second, their reality receded, and they were just two people enjoying a moment together, without their day-to-day reality and all it meant hanging over them.

Tomorrow, they would again be faced with the problem of survival, trying to find a steady source of food and other supplies, making arrangements for Heather to go and negotiate the payment of grain from the neighbours, and now adding the rebuilding of Bailey's to the list of priorities. But for _this_ moment, Beck thought, they were just two people enjoying each other's company.

Albeit dirty, damp and smelling strongly of smoke. With a grin he pulled back to look at her, smoothing her hair down around her face and lifting her chin to kiss her. It wasn't quite how he'd imagined kissing her in the moonlight, but it still felt pretty damn good.

After a few moments, Beck reluctantly broke the kiss. "As much as I'm enjoying this...I'm really cold. And dirty. And my nice new clothes have been completely ruined."

Heather laughed again, then pulled away and grabbed his hand. They started walking again, this time more quickly, towards her house.

"So," Heather grinned, "are you telling me that you once again have nothing to wear?"

A/N: This little story started off very differently (as you'll see when I post the last two prompts) - but for some reason, I couldn't match the tones. I finally decided that I was writing two different stories (even if there were similarities) and just let them go where they needed to go. And I know the title doesn't really match the story...again, the story was supposed to be a little different than what it turned out to be. Muses... ;D


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